Chapter 1 Death

SPC* Alice Morgan sighed at the group of first-year university students who could not disassemble and reassemble a standard M-4 Carbine within the 10-minute timeframe, 'I know they are just probies but if they don't get this down they will die' I thought. I had agreed to give this lecture because I had nothing else to do today and now I was regretting it. I had seen good men and women die because they couldn't get their weapon ready.

"Did any of you actually read the textbook assigned for this course!" Several students shifted in their chairs while the others remained silent.

"No! Well then I'll tell you all right now, none of you will pass your first semester. Congratulations on being the first class in the entirety of the history of this course to all fail." There were protests at that.

"I can't fail at this. My commander would kill me."

"Yeah right. They can't fail an entire class"

These were just a few of the comments I heard as the class continued to protest.

"So what I gather is that none of you want to fail, correct?"

"No, Ma'm!"

"Well, then my advice to you would be to read your textbook thoroughly as well as do your independent research. Now, the first and most important step is to make sure you don't have a bullet in the chamber, why aren't you writing this down!?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------(4 Hours later)

"Yes! Correct" I answered her with a small smile, "Maybe there is hope for you all yet" a couple of students chuckled at that. Checking the time I found that the lecture was going to have to finish within the next five minutes.

"Alright, guys and girls. Ideally, you still have minutes left of the lecture but frankly, there is not much else I can teach you in 5 minutes so remember, clean weapon clear mind." The students packed up chatting to each other while I picked up my bag and slipped it over my shoulder before walking out of the lecture hall.

Walking out to the car I climbed in before setting off towards basecamp.

"ring" "ring"

"Hello"

"Special Officer Morgan you are to report to HQ immediately, General Shaw has been shot and he is asking for you!"

The Ford Mustang I was driving turned so fast I heard the car yell at me. I didn't care, because as much as it pained me to admit it Avery Shaw was still the only father I ever had, even if he is an asshole.

As I was running to the front desk I felt that something was off, my sixth sense was practically screaming at me to get out but my emotions were telling me to get to my surrogate father and that's what I did. I would soon realize I should have listened to my gut. Opening the door to his room all I saw was an empty room and then a knife on my throat, after that darkness.

*(SPC) Officially, the job of a specialist is to ensure soldiers under their charge are experts in their responsibilities and duties. Specialists themselves are recognized experts in the specialized knowledge of individual soldiers in all capacities.